Regrets and Fitting In

Who: Wildflower, Alexander, Keto.Where: Wildflower's Quarters, Medibay.----------------
  Jennifer wildlfower looked at her miserable reflection in her mirror and instantly felt even worse. She had no way of getting the previous day's events out of her head. She'd killed four people, well, four personalities. Four! That made her a serial killer. She'd bludgeoned Sean and Trisees, whilst shakespearea dn the dog had had their brains skwered. The last one was indirect, but she was still the cause.   She felt wretched.  Wildflower looked in the mirror again.  "I guess I'm the Chief Medical Surgeon now," she said, half brightening up, till she realised the cost of her promotion.  "If only I'd taken a little more time and not just homered his head. If only," she shook her head. "The world is full of if onlys," she muttered. "No point making any more. You've done it now, no point crying over spilt milk, it isn't going to scoop itself back into the bucket."  She wandered aimlessly over to her chair and sat down, gazing out into the wide expanse of space and hoping to catch a look at two grey objects.
  Sarah Alexander looked at the pile of schematics she had drawn. The pile of now useless schematics. What was the point of a personality reintegrater with no personalities to reintergrate? She cursed and ripped the large blue piece of paper in two, the plans becoming worthless with each tear.   What was she to do now? She felt like crying again. Pah, crying, a sign of weakness. she needed to be strong, to get over it. she had done 12 years ago, she could do it again. It wasn't so hard. She could go back to living in that single apartment on Ganymede under the assumed identity of Justine Burkenwist, 87 year old recluse.  Alexander felt like crying again.  "Miss Alexander," said Keto aloud from his office. "I need to ask you a question."  "What is it?" she asked, wiping her right eye and walking into Keto's office. She was doing her best to look angry and tough, as though the whole death thing wasn't affecting her.  "Well, I wanted to know if, that is if, well, you know, if you don;t have any other ties, that you wanted to become a member of the medibay? You know, work here with us. We could use someone with your degree's and knowledge. Plus it could up the sanity rating of this department, and with the loss of Trisees and the Dog, it's gone back down to below the 10% margin."  "Work here? As what?"  "You have a specialities in mental science, you have knowledge about warpign thos emental things, you could be a good consultant. You could even, I'm almost loathed to say this, build some equipment for the medical and *spit* psychiatric department."  "Sounds interesting," said Alexander cooly, whilst inside she was leaping fro joy at the prospect of a new possible future.  "What do you say?" asked Keto. "Standing payment and everything. There's even an office I can let you have. Hidden behind the largest Ointment rack," he admitted.  "Why hidden?"  "It's where I placed all that useless medical equipment that originally came with the medibay. who needs equipment when you have ointment?" asked Keto rhetorically.  "Ok Charles," agreed Alexander. "You have yourself a deal."  Alexander smiled and left the office, noticing another peculair one push right past her and into Keto's office. Keto's expression changed to one of severe distaste.  She left the two alone and walked over to the large ointment shelf like she'd been told and asked the Tree, who for soem reason was now speaking in perfect English, to help her move it to one side.  After a few minutes of heavy straining, it budged and a smaller than average door appeared. It was even one of the old swing doors too. She opened it slowly and smiled at the appearance of a medium sized (15 foot by 18 foot) room. A dusty and worn old desk sat at one side of the room, whilst a ginat stack of broken machinery covered the rest of the other. The light switched on to illuminate a few murals and a cabinet on the other side of the desk, and there was even a chair for her.  She smiled and called to the tree to grab Shakespeare's computer and her files, and to bring them into the room. The tree did so and clumsily placed them down on the desk.
  *rustle*
  "Yes," agreed Alexander. "It does have a postmodern feel to it, but there's something missing."
  *rustle - rustle*
  "Well, aside from that."
  *rustle?*
  "That's it, spot on," she said excitedly. She ran back outside and picked up a piece of paper and quickly scribbled on it's front, then she walked back over to her new office and placed it on the door.
  The paper read:
  "Sarah Alexander - Mental Technology Specialist."
  *rustle*
  "Yes, it does, doesn't it?" she smiled. The tree bounded out, and Sarah looked at the mess of her room.
  "This should be quite the spring clean," she said, fully stepping inside and closing the door.
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